Never Compare
by somnolent star
Summary: *gasp* A Ron fic! I never thought I'd live to do one of these . . . pretty angsty. Ron's feelings of inferiority are explored. Oh, and tender feelings towards Ginny! ^.^ Please R/R.


**Never Compare**

_I will never, ever compare. _

I don't know when I realized this. I suspect that I've always sort of known, all along.

_ I will never, ever compare._

They're all so full of accomplishments. Everyone. Everybody. Not just my siblings. Hermione, and Harry too.

_ I will never, ever compare._

I don't know why I even try. But I do. Everyday, slaving away. I know it doesn't seem like it. And that's the problem. No matter what I do, how I do it . . .

_ I will never, ever compare._

I try and I try and I try I try I try Itryitryitryitry and . . . I have nothing to show for it. Except for tears, maybe, but only I will ever know about those.

They accept me, they love me, but I'm not like them. Not as good as them. That git, Malfoy, feels that Muggle-borns and half-bloods aren't as good as them. But I feel inferior to people just like me. Goddamnit. I can't even think coherently! I'm not even sure of what I'm saying . . . 

_ I will never compare._

It's no use trying anymore, but I can't give up. Maybe someday I'll be a prefect, Head Boy, or top in my class. Someday. That day sure is long in coming. God, maybe even someday I'll be an international hero. I can just keep hoping and waiting, and then we'll graduate from Hogwarts, and . . .

_ I will never compare . . ._

. . . they'll just see me as Ron Weasley, that tall chap with freckles and red hair from their schooldays. Harry and Hermione - they'll find people who are worthy enough to be their friends. Not me, oh _no_, not _Ronald Weasley . . ._

iwillnevercompare

The world is so cruel to people like me. _Stupid_ people like me. They've never said that, but I know that's what they think. Even if they refuse to acknowledge it, it's there, they know it, deep down inside, deep deep deepdeepdeep . . . But I know it now. _Stupid. Worthless. Never . . ._

iwillneverevereverevercompare

I'm looking into the mirror now. A face I know so well and yet not at all stares back at me. The face looks like it's happy. It gives no clue at all to how the soul feels inside. Of course, half the people at Hogwarts probably walk around like that. I know Harry and Percy do. Hermione does, sometimes. Ginny doesn't, though. Ginny's face is like the mirror of her soul, it shows everything and everyone how she feels inside. She's so vulnerable - I care about her so much.

Of course, there's the one thing Ron Weasley actually _can_ do. Care about his sister. And hide his emotions. Great talents, I daresay, to have, when everyone else is either famous or a genius . . . great talents, really.

_ nevercompare . . ._

What bothers me the most is that I have nothing at all to show for it. Ginny's adoration? Shadowed by her love for Harry. Harry and Hermione's friendship? It's only because I talked to Harry first, and Hermione sort of came along after. We're constantly having rows, anyway. Does it matter? She thinks I'm an insufferable git. I'm the thing Harry will miss the most . . . because there's no one else he could miss. Dean and Sean are really a pair, and Neville - that goes without explanation. He misses me because . . . there's no one else to miss. And he's been around Hermione too long for feelings to develop. Not that they won't, I daresay, but for now, she's still just a friend, completely platonic, while I . . .

_willnevercompare_

What Draco said to me was right . . . every class I ever passed was because of Hermione. Any bit of recognition I might have is because of Harry. Any other fame I have, if it wasn't because of Harry, it's either because of Dad, Bill, or Charlie. Maybe even Percy. Fred and George contribute to no one, though. But me? I'm nothing.

I want to give up. I really, truly do. But I just can't. I'm not suicidal, I just want to be something. Be _something._ But, no, I'm just Ron Weasley, Ron Weasley, the _Weasley_, Harry Potter's best friend, and a _Weasley._ There's no point to my life. But I can't stop it because of that desperatre, inextinguishable hope that I will someday _be_ something. Naturally, it's impossible. But I want to be something, and it hurts so much inside, that somedays I can hardly think at all. Despair, resignation, any depressing sort of emotion . . . you name it, I've got it.

_And I will never, ever compare._


End file.
